Bruiser was a unique creature, born with half a mind

the son of Sheila skunk and Paul the porcupine.

With stinky dispositions and shortsighted hearts of their own

they expected he’d learn no different and prepared him for the blows

“If ever someone’s down,” they said, “Roll in for the prick.”

They filled his trifling head with hatred and rhetoric.

“You can’t ever trust anyone, so turn your misery into fun

make believe it’s clever to leave your stink on everyone.

Bruiser met Amy butterfly beneath a park bench.

She fluttered hopelessly in the dust. He reveled in her pinch.

“Help me, please,” she cried. “I think I broke my wing,

hauling worms for birds all day, they’ve had a dreadful spring.”

Bruiser stamped a foot, flipped his tail, and sprayed with all his worth.

“You’re asking me, you crazy bug? I was privileged by birth.”

Strutting a wide circle, he mocked her while she cried.

“Should’ve made wiser choices, let those squawking birds die.

You ain’t mine to keep,” he said, lining up for the kill.

“Plan ahead next time.” He poked her with a quill.

Amy caught her breath, and rolled slowly to the side.

Finally, she gasped and cried.

“One thing I will not choose, is to be like you next time.”